


A Pact Undone

by Micbunny



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Original Character(s), Work In Progress, spoiler warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-28 22:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11427096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Micbunny/pseuds/Micbunny
Summary: This is an alterna-verse canon involving my GW 2 characters. Things will be different from the story of Heart of Thorns, and the Living World following it.(Original Characters, do not steal warning. :P )Familiarity with the Guild Wars 2 Universe might help for some descriptions, but is not needed to enjoy (I hope).





	1. Fire in the Jungle

_Something happened._

 

That was the first thought that went through her mind as she awoke.

 

_Something new, in the jungle_

 

It was dark, almost night. With a sniff she could smell it.

 

Smoke.

 

Fire.

 

Something was on fire. Fire was bad. Fire meant death.

 

Death was her job.

 

Slipping on the tanned hide and bone raiment of her station, Paisheri slipped out of her home-tree. It was a nice tree. Old. Tall. Strong. Partly hollow. All factors that made it a good home. Grabbing her bone implements resting on their rack, she lept from the top of the tree.

 

Falling, falling, falling…..

 

There’s the updraft.

 

And a pair of batlike wings unfurled out of nothingness as she caught the strong draft of wind and rose higher into the air. With slow, steady flaps, she drifted through the canopy, toward the scent of smoke.

 

Fire.

 

Death.

 

Something new.

 

Tonight would be a good night.

  
  
\-----------------------------------------------  
  


Jhoira remembered falling. Lots of falling, and screaming, and yelling. That last one was her. Yelling for the assistant engineers to fix the leaks. Yelling for someone to grab the wheel. Yelling that the balloon had ruptured and to brace for impact. Then they had crashed. And everything went black.

 

Now she hurt, and her head swam. Everything was blurry and… red? Wiping the blood from her eyes, Jhoira sat up.

 

After taking a moment, she realised that the cargo netting had been a good place to put herself. Unfortunately it looked like her assistants did not fair better. After a short prayer to help them on to the afterlife, she began the process of untangling herself. With a flick of her wrist, her arm mounted tool kit sprung to life, sprouting a pair of cutters. Well at least those still worked.

 

With a thud, Jhoira fell to the… well it was a floor now but once it had been a wall. Her boots thudding and echoing on the metal of the former airship. That was not what they expected. I mean, yes the jungle was ‘alive’, and the Elder Dragon controlled much of the plant life. But who knew it could grow vines so fast it could wreck an airship? Well…. She knew now. But that hardly helped the fleet.

 

THE FLEET!

 

This ship had been the flagship, and it went down like a brick. Had any of the ships survived? She didn’t know. Well, one thing at a time. Get out of here before something explodes. With a brief look, Jhoira confirmed that something was indeed on fire. And she did not know what. But if the fuel caught fire, it would either burn for days, or if it burned too fast in the tank, would explode like…. like an explosion. Hard to think of analogies after a concussion.

 

After fumbling around for what felt like an eternity, a door was finally located. And the Jhoira was free to survey her surroundings.

 

And it was… jungle.

 

Lots of plants, trees, vines….

 

No landmarks.

 

“Well shit.”

 

With a sigh, she jumped down from the side of the flagship. Another flick of her wrist, and a bizarre pistol, made of tubing and glass casings, pulsing with magic and flowing with energy found its way to her hand.

 

“At least that works.” She muttered to herself, before stowing the pistol in a loop on her belt. “Now where the hell am I? And did anyone else make it.”

 

Looking to the sky, she saw another black plume of smoke. Either it was another crashed ship, or a piece of smoldering shrapnel from her own. Either way, it was likely safer than standing next to the flaming wreckage she had just gotten free from. And so she began to walk, or well, limp toward the smoke in the dark, foreboding jungle.

 

Tonight was going to be a terrible night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time putting something on here, I hope it is good.
> 
> Thanks to [Hyuuint](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyuuint/pseuds/Hyuuint) for poking and prodding and goading me into writing something, as well as proofing some to give me the courage to post. Go read his stuff, it's great.


	2. Among the Wreckage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jhoira finds the wreckage of an airship.

You would think the first thing one would notice about a wild, untamed, magic jungle, teeming with life and partly controlled by an ancient monstrous ‘dragon’ bent on devouring the world’s magic is the sights, the trees, the plants, the shrubs, those strange flowers you never see anywhere outside of the deep jungle.

 

But you would be wrong.

 

Some might think you would notice the sounds first. The leaves rustling, the birds screaming, the branches and thicker brush cracking and snapping under your thick leather boot.

 

They would also be wrong.

 

The most striking thing was the -smell-. It was best described as wet. But not like the faint sour smell of a swamp, the salty tang of sea air, or the more clean smell of a clear lake. No, this smell was wet, and rancid, and hot, and smelled like all the morning mist in the world had gotten stuck here, and let sit for far too long.

 

And Jhoira hated it.

 

It was nothing like the greasy smell of an engine, the thick scent of a coal fire, the electric tinge of a meta-magical hyper composite servo capacitor…..

 

It was weird.

 

But there was a smell that was familiar. And it was not a good one.

 

The musky smell of charred wood, the stinging smell of liquified metal, and the semi-crispy scent of burned person.

 

And then, she finally reached the clearing.

 

Before her lay a large open space in the stands of towering trees, made even larger by the wreckage of a massive airship that lay like a wounded animal on the ground. From the ruptured side of the oval shaped ship its ‘guts’ had spilled forth. Metal, wood, mesh, cogs and wheels, glass and slag lay scattered like so much offal. And there was the first one.

 

He had once been a handsome man, or so Jhoira thought. The ship’s engines must have gone critical, spewing heat and flame into the interior of the ship to cause these kind of injuries.

 

She turned away, not wanting to look anymore.

 

Then she turned back, knelt down, and looked for anything useful. The tags that had partly melted to his chest identified him as the ship’s commanding officer. The remains of a pair of swords at his belt, and the rather bulky armor that was incorporated into his uniform made her think he had been a warrior. A fighter on the front lines, leading the charge.

 

He deserved better.

 

What had they been thinking? They had just beaten one Elder Dragon, who thought they were ready to take on a second? Flying halfway across the world to this gods forsaken jungle to fight a foe they hardly understood. And for what?

 

She moved to the next thing, a box that looked mostly unbroken thank the gods. The crash had rattled it, but she might be able to get it open with a prybar of some kind. Rooting through her tool gauntlet however revealed that some of her tools were missing, and her prybar was among them.

 

“Just my luck.” She sighed to the night air. But there was little she could do at the moment, so she moved on.

 

Moving from piece of debris, to body, to scattered bits and baubles, Jhoira managed to scavenge a few useful things. Some less damaged pieces of scraps and supplies, some food, and a whole lot of bad memories. That last bit wasn’t useful. But she was going to have to get used to that.

 

And then she heard something. A voice. Human, a bit guttural, chanting something.

 

Sneaking behind a large partly collapsed storage crate, Jhoira looked over, and stifled a gasp.

 

There was someone alive!

 

Well, there was someone. A human figure clad in darkly tanned leathers. Skulls and bits of bone adorned their attire, and they wore a deep hood. Walking among the dead, the figure crouched at each body and muttered something Jhoira couldn’t quite make out, and then some faint green light flowed from the body to the figure.

 

What were they doing?

 

And then the figure looked right at Jhoira.

 

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [Hyuuint](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyuuint/pseuds/Hyuuint) for motivation, and for proofing. Go read his stuff. Do it now!


End file.
